Snapshot
by shatteredjewels
Summary: 100 shots of Locke and Terra.
1. Reasons

**Quiet Comfort**

Locke really didn't know what the hell he was doing.

He had spent the last five years staying distant from all things female, struggling to convince himself that any connection or attraction was due to a remembrance of Rachel.

He had spent the last five years doing everything he could to quietly take the Empire down, struggling for a personal revenge.

And here he was, taking care a girl that was almost nothing like Rachel, and an Imperial soldier to boot.

And he didn't know why. Yes, he had been given a mission, but he found himself going beyond the call of duty for this fragile little thing. She was so quiet and her eyes so haunted that he found himself doing whatever he could to make her smile. He taught her to skip stones across the stream trickling by their campsite, he tucked a daisy in her hair, he bought her sugary desserts at an inn.

It was so drastically different. Rachel was so powerful, so beautiful. She had followed him to the caves; she had snapped at him when she was angry. With her, everything had been a battle, and he had fought to give her enough, to provide the excitement that she craved.

And this… creature, this china doll was nothing like her. Instead, after they built a fire, she curled up by his side and looked at the stars. And when he settled down next to her, he felt a curious kind of contentment. He felt rested, comfortable.

Maybe that was why.

As he lay there in the middle of a forest with a girl he barely knew, he felt like he was home.

**Author's Notes**

Well, I've had absolutely no time to work on anything except school this semester. Which is sad, so to try and get me back to posting things, I'm going to start posting my drabbles. These were written for the esper_cave community on Livejournal. The others that I've finished will be put up over time. I want to edit one of them, so it may take some time... Perhaps after I finish my English term paper. Eventually, when I finally settle down and finish the challenge, there will be 100 shots of Locke and Terra.


	2. Luck

**Mortality**

Locke Cole hated waking up in the morning. As a kid, he had faked everything from fevers to sudden paralysis, anything to keep his grandmother from hauling him out of bed. And things didn't improve with age. He swore that getting dragged out of his nice warm blankets was the worst part of his fighting years. Fighting Kefka was nothing compared to fighting Edgar for five more minutes.

The groan beside him reminded him that he wasn't the only non-morning person around. He turned his head and met the deep green eyes of his wife. "Morning," he said.

She yawned. "It's raining."

He made a face. "But it's Adeline's birthday, isn't it? We're supposed to have a picnic."

Terra pushed herself up, her joints cracking as she stretched. She dropped her arms and smiled back at him. "We'll put a bunch of blankets out in the front room and eat dinner on the floor. She's only six, she'll think it's the greatest thing in the world." She leaned over and dropped a kiss on his forehead. "Now get up. I have a cake to bake, and if I have to get up, you do too."

He immediately closed his eyes and started snoring. She poked him, and then the bed creaked and he heard her walking out the door. He kept the noise up for a few moments, just to let her know he didn't do _everything_ she said, and then swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood up.

He was met by an orchestra of cracks and pops.

Locke Cole was getting old.

In the kitchen, the fire was burning and Terra was spooning cups of flour into a bowl. He stopped in the doorway and smiled, bemused at the sight.

He sometimes wondered how she would have aged if magic hadn't disappeared. Perhaps she wouldn't have at all; Espers appeared to be long-lived. Even now, age affected her in slightly different ways. Her hair hadn't grayed, just paled to a softer green. And her hands were still delicate, if wrinkled.

She wasn't immortal, though. A fall down the stairs had done a number on her hip, and she still limped in the mornings and had developed a miraculous ability to predict the weather.

"If you're done with your early morning musings, I'd appreciate it if you could grab the cake pans. Or you can just stand there and drool, take your pick."

He snickered and pushed himself away from the doorframe. "I was thinking about how pretty you are in your old age. Would you rather me call you a hag?"

She turned her head and scrunched up her nose at him, and then smiled gratefully as he pulled the pans off the top shelf. She started pouring the batter into the pan, and he wrapped his arms around her waist. "You'll make me spill."

"Nah. It's just batter. 'Sides, I get to eat what doesn't make it in the pan, so drip away!"

"Eating off the counter. How sanitary."

"Well, you never let me lick the spoon, so what else am I supposed to do?"

She laughed and he smiled. Even after all these years, that laugh still made him feel warm inside.

She slipped out of his arms to approach the oven and he settled down at the table.

He had never expected to make it to here. He fully believed that all dreams of a home and children had been buried with Rachel. And then had come the battle, one that none of them had truly expected to survive. After all, in all the stories, the hero's life ends with the crash of lightning and the final blow. Thoughts of the world after had been faint dreams.

Yet here he was. The aged hero, who had survived and was sitting at a table covered in scratches and dents and a black ink stain from Miranda's first encounter with a cartridge pen that no amount of scrubbing had removed. His responsibilities? Now it was keeping the names and birthdays of twelve kids, forty-two grandkids and four great-grandkids straight. And to keep track of his wife's reading glasses.

Terra settled beside him and handed him his coffee, brewed just the way he liked it.

Let the heroes end their stories with a crash of lighting. Let them live in immortality; let them never grow old and gray.

Locke Cole may be old, but he was the luckiest bastard in the world.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

Well, in honor of the fact that I am sitting in my cousin's house preparing to enjoy my Thanksgiving weekend by watching chickflicks and going paintballing, I decided to do something BESIDES SCHOOL! Yay!

This is slightly edited from the version I wrote for esper_cave. I never liked the flow of the first version, so hopefully this is improved. Just a fun glimpse into a future family life of my favorite couple. ^^

SJ


	3. Charm

**Shopping**

"Why are they all different?"

Locke paused from his examination of the tents in the general store. Terra was standing with her hand on her hip, scrutinizing the tents. She looked at him and raised her eyebrows, her signal that she wanted him to explain something.

He shrugged as he handled the green tent. "People just like to have things that fit their personality, I guess. After a long day of hiking and fighting, it's nice to sleep in something that feels like your own, even if it's just a tent that's your favorite color." He pointed at a shelf of ornaments. "They have charms that they can set into the top, too."

Terra walked over and examined the trinkets and Locke turned to talk to the merchant about how resilient the fabrics would be against weather. He selected two. Green for Edgar, blue for himself. The merchant excused himself to help another customer, promising to package the items in a moment. Locke nodded and turned to Terra.

She had left the shelf, and held her hands behind her back with a mischievous smile on her face. He chuckled. "What do you have there?"

Her smile grew and she brought out a golden crown, set with glass beads. "For Edgar, because he's a king and his tent can be his castle."

Locke grinned as he took the charm and placed it on the counter next to the tents. "Well, that's perfect for Edgar, but I'm not a king."

She nodded, and handed him a silver moon. He stared at it, and then met her twinkling eyes. "The moon?"

"Yep."

"The moon."

"The moon."

"Any particular reason why I get stuck with the moon?"

She shrugged, dropping her face so that he couldn't see her eyes. "Well… Remember that night when Edgar told me my eyes were like the stars, and I got confused? He said that the stars were the treasures of the heavens and he could see them in my eyes. And I think that the moon is even prettier than the stars, so that means it must be a treasure too. And you're a thief, and you like treasure, so.." Her voice wavered for the moment, and then the words came out in a rush. "You're a thief and so you stole the moon for your tent."

He blinked.

She looked up, biting her lip.

And he burst out laughing.

She looked unsure until he took the moon from her hands and placed it on the counter. "I suppose the moon is quite the treasure. However, I remind you that I am a treasure hunter, not a thief." She stuck out her tongue and he noticed that she still had one hand behind her back. "And what did you pick out for yourself?"

She hesitated, and brought out the final object. It was a ribbon, fashioned of metal and studded with violet beads. He took it gently and placed it on the counter. She came to stand beside him and reached out to run her fingers along the charms. "Why did you pick that one?"

She bit her lip, a sign that she was unsure or nervous. "I don't know… Because it's pretty?"

"It is pretty."

She looked up at him. "Everyone here has stuff like this. All the girls I saw in the pub had ribbons in their hair, and everyone just looks nice." She turned and looked down at her charm. "I guess I want to be pretty too… Even if it is just my tent."

He looked down at her, and saw that her ponytail was held by a simple brown band. Her clothes were dusty from the traveling. She really must feel out of place, South Figaro had an elegant style.

On impulse, he bent down to his pack beside the counter and rummaged around until his fingers closed on something soft. He pulled it out and spread it in his fingers. She paid no attention, her fingers running over her ornaments. He carefully caught the fabric under her mass of hair, and pulled it up, tying it into a neat bow. She looked up with wide eyes and he grinned.

It was a red silk bandana.

"There. Now you can feel just as pretty as you are."

He signaled the merchant, who came over with a mirror. She smiled as she saw her reflection, and her smile grew when he ordered a pink tent to match her brand new charm.

He offered his arm to her, and they watched as the merchant bundled up their purchases. The price was more than he had intended to spend, but the smile on her face was worth the gold.

As was that thought of the look on Edgar's face when he saw the pink tent.

**Author's Notes**

Just why do they all have different tents?

Well, I'm entering my final days of this semester... I have a paper due tomorrow, another paper and a presentation due Friday, and another presentation Monday. So what did I do tonight? Instead of tackling my massive work load, I sat around and skimmed really bad Twilight fanfics and decided to post another section of this. I think my brain has forgotten the last of the semester and taken off for Christmas already.

I also happened to check out my hits for this story... It made me pout. Over 140 hits, and only 4 reviews? C'mon people! Look at all those Twilight fanfics with over 1000 reviews! You can't let them beat you! (says the girl who rarely reviews... Perhaps I should take my own advice...) But anyway, kudos go to AshmandaLC and Unknown2008, just a little review brings sunshine to my day!

Good luck on finals, everyone!

SJ


	4. Two

**Empathy**

It was a quiet day, and he found himself in a pub that night with a bottle of amber liquid and a shot glass. He'd regret the hangover tomorrow, but right now, he wanted to leave the haunting dark eyes and dark hair and pale skin behind.

It took a moment to realize that Terra was standing across the table. He looked up, expecting to see disapproval. Instead, he found curiosity.

 She pulled out the chair and settled across from him, examining the bottle. A barmaid came and offered her her own glass. She took it, and held it between two delicate fingers. 

"Why do people drink?"

He shrugged. "Lots of reasons. They like the taste of alcohol, they want to escape their lives, it makes them feel adult... Maybe just for the sake of drinking." 

She reached out and took the bottle. She poured it into her glass in a slow and steady stream and set the bottle down before picking up the shotglass. She tilted it back and forth with her hand, watching the surface of the liquor slosh in the glass. 

"Why do you drink?"

It took a moment before he could reply. "Some people drink to forget."

She nodded, and then raised her glass to her lips and drank. She did not cough. Her hands did not shake.

She was calm.

She lowered her glass and didn't meet his eyes as she spoke. 

"Maybe some people drink because they have nothing to forget."

He had no reply. He poured her another shot and they drank in silence.


	5. Help

**Conflict of Interest**

It felt like the whole world should be crying.

Even as the air whipping past the airship changed taste in his mouth, even as the brown dead grass took on a sheen of vibrant green, even as the sun finally warmed his skin- warmth, real warmth, for the first time in so long…

He felt dead.

He had once been her hold onto the world, her security against the confusion of her lost memories. But then he had left her and things had never quite been the same as their group of comrades became more and more complex. Events took control and he lost her. And even after the Cataclysm, they had been friends, but never too close. Too many reasons to not interfere. She had children; he had a chance at redemption for long-past mistakes.

Retrospect allowed perfect vision and he saw that he would now be damned for his lack of understanding. She had needed something concrete; she had needed a hold on this world. And he had failed to give it to her. He had never given her enough. And now she was gone, with nothing but a brief flash of sparkles and dust to mark her passing.

* * *

**Author's Notes**

They're short, they're sweet, and that's ok. Trying to get back on track, but there's so much to do! However, I have a couple more entries planned, and some of them actually have plot!

Enjoy!

SJ


	6. Smile

**Aftermath**

The air left Locke's lungs in one long whoosh as he hit the ground, the force from the fall sending him sliding through the grass. He rolled to a stop and lay there, panting and wondering if the pain in his back was life-threatening. It took a few minutes before he could figure out that, no, his back was not broken, and yes, grass tasted really nasty, so it was time to pull himself up.

He looked around, fearing that the demon would return, and to see if Terra was okay.

He froze. She was several feet away with her back was to him. She was shaking.

He was on his feet and running before he could finish another breath. Please don't let her be dying, PLEASE don't let her be dying…

He tumbled down beside her, prepared for the worst.

"Terra, are you okay?" He was already fumbling for the leather case of phoenix downs he kept in his vest pocket. He took a moment to curse Shadow for running off with the elixirs.

To his surprise, the shaking intensified. Terra flopped over onto her back, and he learned why she was shaking.

She was laughing.

Not just laughing, not just the small smiles and occasional giggles she usually let out. No, she clutched her stomach gasping for breath; tears rolled down her cheeks. Locke had never seen anything like this from her.

"Terra?" How do you react to that?

She opened her eyes, calming slightly, but giggles still rippled through her throat. "Do you realize what just happened?"

"I think we were just thrown about twenty feet from a battle. Are you okay?"

This brought on another wave of laughter. His eyebrows furrowed, this didn't seem so funny. "Terra?"

She gasped; her words wheezed between giggles, "We just got SNEEZED out of a battle. That thing sneezed, and it took us with it. Seriously. A SNEEZE."

Locke blinked, and Terra started laughing again.

And then he smiled, shook his head, and plopped down beside her. As long as she was laughing, he might as well be laughing too.


	7. Sing

**Metamorphosis**

They didn't have enough time to rest. Reports of scattered troops throughout Narshe raised the questions of a possible regrouping, of more attacks. And so Banon was merciless and insisted they abandon their bandages and potions and let their blood freeze to their skin as they struggled up the path to the esper.

It was a narrow passage through the cliffs and they walked in single file, silent.

No one noticed that Terra dragged behind in the back. Banon simply moved as briskly as he dared through the ice and snow with everyone following. He didn't glance back, marching straight across the swaying bridge to the ledge where the being of scales and membrane was encased in ice. They filed in behind him.

All except Terra, who clung to the bridge's railing as her boots slipped on the ice. She could hear someone calling.

They stood and stared, at the majestic being caught in a prison of crystal. Celes broke the silence. "It's pulsating."

Locke turned to regard her. "Pulsating?"

She lifted her wrist and traced the oddly shaped scars, the marks of her infusion. "I can feel my magic reacting to it. It's powerful… But why?"

Banon finally noticed that the reason they were there, their ray of light, was not with the group. "Where is she?" he demanded.

"I'm here."

The voice was soft and childlike, and Locke felt his breath catch as Terra reached the ledge.

She was deathly pale. Her lips were pale, her hands, her face, everything but her eyes.

Her eyes were glowing.

She had eyes for nothing but the esper.

And it was glowing in a cadence with her eyes.

Uncertain, he took a few steps and stood between Terra and the esper, hoping that if he blocked her view, she would come out of this strange trance. He could hear Banon protesting, afraid he would break the connection.

She didn't see him. Her eyes were flickering, flashing with white light. And then he heard the whispers. Words he couldn't understand.

He was half turned around when the flash of white-hot fire flung him aside; he realized with growing dread that the words were coming from the esper.

They all stood frozen in horror as Terra took slow, deliberate steps to the esper. The flashes were coming faster, and Locke could feel their warmth where he lay, breathing harshly in the snow.

* * *

The ice encasing the esper was cold. Unnaturally so. When she touched her hands to the ice, she could feel that it was unnatural. It was so cold it burned, a spell of some kind, a cruel and agonizing death its intention. She could feel the flashes of pain through the ice.

This creature had seen much death in its time.

Fascinated, she ran her fingers over its many facets; she could feel the sharp frost following her fingers. The warmth was running through her fingers, around her body.

She whispered softly, "You know me."

A warm flash was her only answer. Words were being whispered, a crooning, soft sound. Their inflection was familiar, like something she had heard before but could no longer remember.

"You know me."

The warmth was more insistent. More flashes were coming through her fingers. Images were joining the words, burned directly into her brain, but they were too fast for her to really _see_.

"Tell me!" she cried. "Tell me who I am!"

The warmth in her fingers was becoming more hot and insistent with every movement. It was burning in an arc through her body. It was painful, but she would not release her hold on the esper. "Who am I?" she screamed, her voice harsh and painful in her throat.

And then the pain was ripping her apart from the inside out. Her skin was melting and reforming, her hair was bursting from its clasps and flickering with static. She was burning. The fire that she loved, that warmed her and frightened her and fascinated her was running through her body.

She was terrified.

* * *

Locke managed to drag himself to his knees as he watched her blur and shift into something strange and glowing. The esper was pulsing and crying out in an unfamiliar lilting language. The pulses grew more insistent, until the light burst in a blinding blast. He squinted, and almost cried out in disbelief at the sight of Terra. She was shimmering with a pearly light; she was an iridescent being of purple and pink.

She was strangely beautiful.

And then her scream burst forth, a heart wrenching, tearing scream that he could feel himself echo, and then she burst into the sky leaving a trail of sparkles in her wake.

The esper started to sing.

He sat there, they all sat there completely dumbfounded as the esper's strange language reached their ears. It wasn't until it softened to a hum that Locke could even face the reality.

Terra was gone.


	8. Create

**Beautiful**

The moment Katarin put her in his arms, he forgot about everything.

He forgot about the four grueling hours of Terra screaming, of her cursing him and the midwife and Kefka (he failed to see what Kefka had to do with any of this, but he wasn't about to tell her that) and clawing his hands whenever he came near.

It was worth it.

She was red and tiny and wrinkled and wailing and absolutely _beautiful._

* * *

I am not dead.

Busy, yes. Dead, no. You see, this is why I never complain when other authors take time to update their stuff, because hello. I suck.

But when finals come around, and I don't want to study...

And I really plan on being a little bit better about updates. I'll try.

SJ


	9. Fight

**Ghosts**

There are days when she wonders why Locke chose her, usually when he's away on business and there's nothing to do but think while she waits for the candle to burn down before she falls asleep. It's not that she feels insecure with their relationship; it's just that her insatiable curiosity about love hasn't faded and she still finds herself trying to figure out just how it all works.

She thinks she has the answer.

It's because she's willing to share.

It's because, when she walked into that inn in South Figaro, she didn't ask about the dark haired woman sitting on the bed with Locke's head in her lap, slowly stroking his hair. The woman had met her eyes and Terra had simply backed out of the room.

Rachel's ghost appeared less often after Locke set her soul free, but she still came to watch Locke. She stopped touching him, but she still watched.

Terra thought that Celes had been able to sense the ghost, but not see her. And it had driven a wedge between her and Locke that Celes had refused to face. There was a distinct lack of understanding between the two regarding Rachel, which had led to too many hurt feelings and to much anger to surmount.

And somehow, in the middle of it all, Locke fell in love with her.

And though they were together, she had an understanding that the past is still a part of a person. She knew why he was quiet on that one day once a year. She knew that a part of his heart would always belong to Rachel. She wasn't jealous of the fact.

Sometimes Rachel came when Locke wasn't home. Terra would glance over her shoulder while scrubbing oatmeal from the breakfast dishes, and see the pale eyes peeping around the corner. The ghost was shy at first, but eventually, she'd watch Terra just as much as Locke. Her visits were still rare, but Terra came to almost expect her; she was almost a friend.

She never told Locke. She thought he knew anyway.

_Where_ is all this inspiration to write coming from, and _why_ is it not channeling itself into my master's thesis? *cries*

That being said, here's a shot! And oh my goodness, I finally took the time to try and understand and discovered the story stats page... This little series has over 2000 hits. I had no idea! See, there are more TerraxLocke shippers out there than people think...

Thanks for reading! Reviews make me smile!

SJ


	10. Defend

**Quick Note:** This is AU-ish, and works under the premise that Terra was re-captured by the Empire while journeying to Narshe with Edgar and Banon.

**Burn**

I wake chained to a throne. The room around me is fuzzy, and blurs in and out of focus as someone's fingers probe my head. The fingers dig in and give my hair a sharp tug, forcing my head to tilt back, and I wince as maniacal laughter rings harshly into my ear. The clown.

I squint against the bright, garish blur that is the clown as he draws back, a thin circlet in his hand. Crown… Head hurts… I only just removed the crown… Slave Crown. This happened before. But last time, someone else took off the crown. And old man who sent someone to help me. Who? Someone else helped me, someone else saved me, someone else made me feel safe… I just can't remember who…

The door clangs open, and a man in a banana suit huffs as he hurries into the room. "Kefka, you fool!" His voice is too loud; like the laughter, it hurts my head. "You were ordered to wait for me to handle the removal! To do so incorrectly could lead to irreversible damage!"

The banana man snatches the circlet from the cackling clown and rushes to my side, his fingers touch my skull, more gently that the clown. He lifts my chin with two fingers, and suddenly bright light shines into my eyes. It hurts. I clamp my eyes shut and try to turn away, but he tightens his hold on my face and refuses to let me budge. "She's shying away from the light. This is not good." Something clicks. I open my eyes a crack, and then all the way, relieved at the lack of light. I can't see the full room anymore; black spots dance across my eyes.

There's pain in my arm, and I hiss in surprise and jerk my head to where a needle is sticking out of my skin. The banana man pulls the syringe out and sighs. "That will keep her calm, but who knows what could happen once the drug wears off. I hope you're happy, Kefka."

Kefka.

Is he a bad man? I'm scared.

Fingers lace themselves through my hair, and my head is bounced up and down; my teeth clack as I'm thrown back and forth. "She's mine, mine, mine, mine MINE!" shrieks the clown. There are three black spots with white edges bouncing on his face.

I watch him remove the chains, and he's moving too slow but too fast at the same time. He wraps his hand around my arm, and I whimper as his fingers grip exactly where the needle pierced. He jerks me up and we're moving.

The world continues to warp. I feel like the world around me still too slow, like I[m fighting my way through waist-high water. He drags me down stairs and through halls, and I squint my eyes and try to avoid seeing the bright lights set in the walls. There are people in the halls, but they shrink aside. I squint harder, trying to see their faces, but there's too much light.

We're in a hanger now, and there's a huge machine in front of me. It's ugly, but at least I can see it in the dim light. Soldiers scramble around Kefka, and he turns at me to grin.

"You're going to pilot that. You're were stolen from us by some very bad men; men who told you lies and were planning to betray you. We got you back, and now you're going to help us fight against those bad, bad men. Do you understand? We're going to kill the Returners, you and I. All of them."

Returners. Bad men. Lies, and I can see it, there you are. And I can see it, I was kneeling and you were holding a cloth to catch the blood on my face. And I can see it, you smiling. And I can see, you helping me up. And I can see it, you stayed with me. And I can see it, you held my hand. And I can see it, you shied away when fire flared from those hands. And I can see it, a man bloody on the floor, and you scrambling to pack. And I can see it, your back. And I can see it, you leaving. And I can see it, you didn't look back.

Kefka grabs my arm and drags me comfort me cheer me watch me little me shy me quiet me fire me monster me hurt me sad me don't leave me.

Kefka shoves me in the cockpit, his hands strangely efficient as they fasten the buckles of my harness. He kneels, and he and his make-up are both smiling. "Do you remember what to do? It's easy; we trained you for this. All you have to do is burn up everything."

Burn.

Burn everything.

Fifty soldiers dead, but that was supposed to be a lie, wasn't it? They say she doesn't remember anything; she doesn't remember that she's a monster. She's a last ray of hope. For who? Hope for you, who walked away?

I watch my hands as they click buttons. The suit comes alive with a rumble, and a neat and orderly checklist appears in my mind. Standby first engine… First engine go. Pull the levers. Standby second engine… Second engine go. Wrap hands around the arm-like extensions that take up most of the cock-pit. Standby third engine… Third engine go.

This was easy. This was natural. This couldn't be a lie?

He said he'd stay with me. He left. He promised he would stay and he left. He lied.

They must be my enemies, then. They must be the liars.

The suit disconnects from its generator, and we lurch to life. I manipulate the controls and we find our rhythm as we move to the left, where too-bright arrows point the way. Out of the cockpit is night, and I smile in welcome relief as my eyes finally fully relax. Another suit follows, but it travels in little spurts, like its pilot is not fully comfortable with its mechanics. My comm-link comes to life with a burst of static, and Kefka's voice surrounds me. "Our enemy is up ahead. They are primarily foot soldiers, and should offer little resistance. Do you remember how to burn? Show me now. Burn up everything!"

It's easy, to flip the switches and activate the molten lava. The fire is bright, but it doesn't hurt my eyes. I watch it, how different shades of orange and pure white dance for me. The fire should be catching something, and sparking into a different kind of flame, a quiet flame that I used to build for him, I think, but there's nothing to consume here. Kefka laughs in my ear, and cries, "Perfect, perfect, perfect! Let's go! Burn everything!"

I want to see that other kind of the flame; the kind I used to build. I need to find something to burn. I activate the suit, and Kefka follows. The series of mirrors set into the side of the armor allow me to see the foot soldiers that march in orderly ranks around my suit. They are used to this. Perhaps I fought with them before. This is easy; this is right. This is true.

The march to the battlefield is lengthy but not tiring. There are fewer enemies waiting than I expected, and I wonder why they need me to fight. These people stole me, and lied; I don't want to fight them. There they are. The king, the lion, the bear, the thief.

Thief treasure hunter thief treasure hunter thief treasure hunter stole me stole me liarliar thiefthiefthief…

The foot soldiers form ranks and stand at ease as I take point and maneuver the armor forward. Why are they here I don't know why is he angry I don't know who are they I don't know who is she, standing beside him I don't know why this hurts I don't know why I don't know did I don't know you I don't know leave I don't know me I don't know you I don't know anything I don't know anymore I don't know love I don't know hate hate hatehatehate click the switch tap tap tap nononodon'tleave press the button and

let

him

burn.

* * *

Yeah... hopefully I don't get killed for this one?

Please note that the progression and format of this piece were set by my high school creative writing teacher. I used an old exercise from that class to create this.

Enjoy, and don't forget that reviews make me smile!

SJ


	11. Destiny

**Chance Meeting**

Terra wore a sleeveless yellow sundress with big bright tulips embroidered on the neckline. It made her look childish, but she didn't mind. She felt airy and comfortable, which was nice. The beach was still warm despite the evening that had overcome the sun. Her parents sat up on the deck with Shiva, who was blowing frozen bubbles that floated into the air. One wandered down and pricked Terra's arm, and she shivered at the sudden chill.

She watched the wave of bubbles creep far down the beach to a bonfire. They pricked the humans sitting in a circle around the flames, and Terra could hear their incredulous shouts from her perch on the deck stairs. She laughed softly, and glanced up to see Shiva's mischievous wink over the deck rail.

Silly creatures, humans.

Her human uncle was getting married in this bright seaside city. Mama insisted the whole family attend, even Phoenix, who was off feeding where there was still sunlight. Terra didn't quite understand why this was so necessary, because Mama hated her human family, but sometimes being related to humans made Mama do funny things. Humans, even Mama, made no sense sometimes.

Especially their fascination with espers. She just wished they wouldn't _stare_.

The beach was lovely, and Terra hadn't seen sunshine in a very long time. Lying on the white sand in the morning sunlight with Father had been relaxing, until the human families began arriving. And then she had tensed, feeling all the eyes on her, until she scrambled back to the villa just to escape.

Espers weren't familiar to civilians. At court and at military functions, Terra felt… not comfortable, but not stressed, but in this place, there were just so many eyes.

She picked at the wood of the deck stairs until she found a rough spot, torn up enough for her to peel off a sliver. A breath of magic, and the wood sparked to life. She idly began tracing fire circles, humming softly to herself.

"That's a cool trick."

Terra jerked her fingers closed over her spark and looked up. A human male. Young, tall, with pale hair swept back into a bandana. He had a smirk on his face and one of Shiva's ice bubbles balanced on his fingertip. One of the humans from the bonfire, maybe.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you."

Terra glanced up to see Shiva looking down. Shiva shrugged, and Terra bit her lip and looked back at the stranger. He was still smiling, but as the silence lingered it started to strain.

"I'm sorry; I didn't mean to offend you." He dug his hands into his pockets. "I just saw the light and wanted…"

"It's ok," Terra interrupted, knowing Mama wouldn't want her to be rude. He looked back up to meet her eyes. "I'm sorry; I'm just not that good at talking to humans. I don't see them very often."

His shoulders relaxed. "So it's ok for me to talk to you?"

She felt herself flush and looked down at her bare feet. "Of course. I'm sorry." She cast about in her head for small talk. This was so much easier with her parents or Celes and Leo around; they usually led the conversation, leaving her to one-word replies and occasional smiles. "Umm…" She stuttered another apology. Should she introduce herself, or ask for his name first? Which was polite when talking to a stranger?

He laughed softly. "You don't have say sorry. I didn't mean to be intimidating. The name's Locke, what's yours?"

She glanced up at him through her bangs. "Terra. Terra Branford."

He whistled. She winced.

He face immediately turned apologetic, which was fascinating to her. His face was open and earnest, expressions that the humans with which she was acquainted (Mama being the blaring exception, of course) lacked. She sensed no guile here, even as he started to talk. "Sorry, I didn't mean to react that way. I just didn't realize I'd be meeting you when I came over. What brings you to Albrook exactly?"

She fidgeted, picking at a loose thread in her dress's hem. "My uncle's getting married. We're here to attend the ceremony."

He took a few steps closer to her, and she looked up to see him craning his neck to see her family sitting on the deck. "Is that your family?"

She nodded. "My parents and my cousin. Her parents are inside and my grandmother is out." He had asked her why she was here; maybe she should do the same. "Do you live here?" she blurted.

He looked down, surprised. And then smiled. "Nope. Flew down with some friends to celebrate graduating from University. I'm from Kohlingen, but went to school in South Figaro. Never visited the Empire; figured it was about time."

She nodded, and then found herself lost for conversation. This was ridiculous; it shouldn't be this hard to talk to someone.

"I saw you earlier." His voice made her jerk up again. "On the beach," he clarified. "You didn't stay for very long."

She nodded. "I don't like it when people stare," she explained softly. "I look mostly human which helps, but everyone knows what we are and that's hard sometimes."

He nodded. "Well, I can't guarantee that I'm perfect at doing that, and who knows how good my friends will be, especially when they find out who you are… But do you want to come over? We're roasting s'mores."

Terra's breath caught in her throat. Spend time with _humans_? An entire group of them? She jerked her head up to Shiva, but her cousin's attention was back on her parents. She looked back at the man, who had a slight, uncertain smile on his face.

His eyes were soft.

He seemed so nice. Maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't be so bad. And if it was, she could always run, right?

"I've never made a s'more before," she offered.

"I'll bet you'd make one better than anyone. Hell, you'll probably show us up and roast it without even sticking it in the fire."

She felt a real, genuine smile creep onto her face, and the man's—Locke's, he said his name was Locke—eyes lit up in return. She stood up, brushed the wrinkles from her skirt and stepped onto the sand. He half turned to move back to the bonfire, but then hesitated and raised a single eyebrow back at her. "Do you want to grab your shoes or something?"

Terra giggled. "I don't need them."

His smile became a full-blown grin. "Lucky. Okay then, let's go!"

He took off running, and she giggled again at his sudden boyishness. The awkwardness was gone, replaced by nerves. It was different—not the kind of nervousness that made her shaky, but a kind of tightness in her stomach that almost felt like glee. Without another thought, she took off in pursuit.

* * *

I'm on a roll these days! Woo hoo!

I'm somewhat tempted to take this drabble and turn it into a full-fledged fic. A more modern take on the pre-game events with a Terra who has a family and political connections. I think it could be interesting. I wonder if anyone else would find that interesting?

Thanks for reading!

SJ


	12. Choices

**Fragment**

Terra was out on the front porch helping Ruby with her embroidery while Alice played with paper dolls at their feet. It was summer, and most of the kids were out swimming with some other children from the neighborhood. At breakfast, Ruby had tossed her head and declared herself too old for swimming, but mostly, Terra figured she stayed behind because Ben Albert from up the street had promised to bring Charlotte over to play with little Alice. He hadn't made an appearance yet, but it was still early in the afternoon.

When the gate opened, and Ruby jerked her head up, Terra had to laugh at the scowl that crossed over her face when Alice screamed, "Mommy!" and scrambled off the porch. No Ben yet. Ruby in turn scowled at Terra, and then turned with a sniff back to her embroidery. Shaking her head at her oldest daughter's recently acquired attitude, Terra watched Katarin pop Alice up on her hip and walk to the porch.

"She getting way too big for this," Katarin said, grunting as she made it to the porch with her daughter.

"She's not that— " Terra cut off as Katarin shoved a piece of paper in her face.

"You," she said, "are going on a date."

Terra blinked, and then snatched the piece of paper out of her hand. "You opened my mail?"

"Yes I did, and it's a good thing too, because if I hadn't, you'd talk yourself out of it."

Terra scrunched up her face in Katarin's direction, and turned to Alice, tugging on Katarin's skirts and trying to get picked up again. "Don't turn out as nosy as your mother," she said, and then unfolded the letter. Ruby stuck her chin on Terra's shoulder to see as well, and Terra tapped her on the nose in response. "The same goes for you, young lady." Ruby scoffed and Terra turned her focus to the letter.

"He's got to be kidding."

"You're going," Katarin said, crossing her arms.

"Oh no, I'm not. I'm not leaving you and Duane and the kids for that long."

"The Opera House?" Ruby breathed, jaw dropping. "And staying in Jidoor? Mama, you have to go!"

"You took care of the whole brood last year after Duane and I lost Peter. We can hold down the fort—Alice, stop pulling on me; I'm not picking you up. No, I don't want to hear your whining. Anyway, we'll handle things just fine. It's only a week."

"But," Terra scanned the letter again. "I don't even like the opera. I told him that."

"But that's the whole point. He's not taking you to see an opera. He just said he's taking you to see something at the Opera House. There's a huge difference."

"That's not even... This makes no sense."

Katarin moved over, and plopped down on the wooden swing next to Terra. "I was there for that entire conversation, Terra. He was so excited about you remembering something, even something as small as knowing you don't like opera, but that you went to something else at the Opera House once and loved it. He was excited enough to do this for you. I think you should go."

Terra was at a loss for words, reading the words on the page over and over. "But... "

"Mama, go!" Ruby exclaimed. "We'll fix up your blue silk dress and you'll look so pretty!"

"But there's too much going on for me to leave."

"Ruby can help me out with the younger ones, and Will's old enough to help Duane. We'll be just fine. You should go."

Terra looked down at the letter once more, looking for salvation, shocked to see her hand shaking slightly. She was nervous. Incredibly nervous. "But," she said, voice quavering slightly. "It's not really a date is it?"

Three weeks later, Terra walked down the staircase of her hotel, dressed in a floor length evening gown that left her shoulders bare. She'd pinned her hair up and tucked a sapphire comb into her curls.

Locke was waiting at the foot of the stairs, formally dressed in a coat and vest, much to her surprise. He read her face and grinned at her. "Surprised?'

"You clean up well. I'm impressed."

"I could say the same for you." He offered her his arm, and she curled her hand around it as they exited the hotel. "You look lovely."

Terra felt her cheeks warm and glanced away. Luckily, steering her through the crowds until they reached the port a couple streets from the hotel distracted Locke. He helped her up the ramp onto the small airship, and then stepped away from her to talk to one of the crew. A few minutes later, he returned to her side and led her to one of the bars on board to offer her a drink.

Terra held up the flute of champagne, raised an eyebrow, and sent a look at Locke. "Ok, what is this all about?"

"Hmm?"

"This. You whisk me away from my kids—and by the way, I can't believe I'm saying this, but thank you. I didn't even realize how much I needed a vacation. But anyway, suddenly I'm in Jidoor away from my kids, all dressed up to go to the Opera House. By airship no less. And with champagne. Don't you hate champagne?"

"Where did you get the idea I hate champagne?"

"When you told Edgar at the victory feast that champagne was for sissies, and insisted he toast over gin."

"That was for Edgar's sake." Locke's hand shot out to grab her arm and steady her as the airship lurched, signaling their departure. "He was in full royal form, acting all pompous, and it was just all of us, so I needed to knock him off his game. But I have no problems with champagne."

Terra nodded, but her hand crept up to fiddle with the string of pearls around her neck. "Ok, so the champagne doesn't count, but the rest of this. You're in a suit. I'm in a dress. We're going to the opera."

"No, not the opera." The airship had steadied, but rather than just let go of her, Locke slid his hand to her back, drawing her in like he was about to reveal a secret. "We're going to something much better."

"What exactly? How do you know that I'm going to like it?"

The excited grin snuck onto his face, turning him into a mischievous little boy. "You're going to love it. I promise."

Terra stomach jumped at the sight of that grin, and also at Locke's proximity. She covered it by rolling her eyes and blowing a stray curl out of her eyes. "We'll see."

"Oh, we will."

The Opera House was different from how Terra remembered it. Everything had been reconstructed and restored in the years since Kefka's defeat. The cheap fabrics and paint from after the Fall were replaced by splendor. Once again linked to Locke's arm, Terra drew closer to him as she noticed the glances her way. She self-consciously touched her hair, knowing what people were seeing and possibly recognizing. "Stop that," Locke scolded softly when he saw her fussing.

"But they're looking at me."

"Good for them. You don't need to hide. Anyone who recognizes you will count themselves lucky."

Terra ducked her head. Locke reached out and gently lifted her chin. "Stop that, Terra."

Terra glanced up and him, and he frowned down at her. "You're beautiful. Now come on. Let's go sit down."

He led her up the stairs to the mezzanine, accepting a program from an usher, and holding it out of Terra's reach. "Uh uh," he said. "No ruining the surprise."

"Not fair!"

Locke refused to give in, and they were seated in prime seats in the center of the mezzanine. While the orchestra warmed up below, Terra tried to steal the program, but Locke continued to keep it just out of her reach. Aware that they were annoying the other patrons, Terra drew back, crossed her arms, and glared at him out of the corner of her eye. "It'll be worth it," was his only reply.

When the lights dimmed, Terra leaned forward slightly in her seat to get a better view. The orchestra played its overture, and the curtain opened to a sight that both astounded and perplexed her.

There were women on stage, all dressed in bright costumes, dancing around a baby. And, much to Terra's confusion, that's all they were doing. There was no singing or lengthy exchanges, just dance. As her shock wore off, and she watched the inhuman things happening on stage—they were moving around on the very tips of their toes—her shock turned to amazement.

The music was beautiful, and seeing these girls dance to it... It stirred something within her. Her feet started twitching, and she wanted to just jump on her feet and let out her sudden energy. Without even thinking, she reached out and grabbed Locke's hand as she watched, mesmerized.

The dancing continued, with an evil fairy casting a spell on the baby. The baby grew to be a flirtatious young woman (Terra couldn't help but think of Ruby) who teased her suitors, until, drawn to a spindle, she pricked her finger and collapsed.

The audience applauded as the curtain lowered. The people around the couple stood to stretch and move about, but Terra couldn't move. She turned to Locke. "What?"

He offered her the program. "It's called a ballet."

Terra eagerly snatched it out of his hand, and opened the small booklet. As she scanned the dancer's names and the libretto, Locke chuckled. "See, I told you. You loved it."

Terra tore her eyes away. "But how?"

Locke shrugged, but Terra noticed the twinkle in his eye. "Talk."

"There's nothing to say."

"No, there's some sort of backstory here."

Locke scratched his head and sighed. "Well, I was going to save this for the end, but now's as good a time as any." He reached inside his vest and pulled out a program, similar to the one in Terra's hand, but much more worn.

Terra took it carefully, and looked it over. It was for the same ballet. She looked up and him and raised her eyebrows.

"Look at the Aurora casting in each."

Terra carefully opened the old program and compared it to her own. The same name was listed next to Aurora in each program. "What?" she asked.

"When you had that memory, of not liking opera when it came to the Empire, but liking something you got to see at the Opera House, I got curious. I wanted to figure out what it was. So I asked Celes."

Terra jerked her head towards him. "And she answered?"

Locke spread his hands in surrender. "Hey, hey, I know she and I didn't part on the best terms, but when it comes to helping our friends, we can still be civil. She wrote back and told me that you went to see a ballet. You used to take lessons as well."

Terra sat back. "I... I did that? That stuff on stage?"

"Yes, you did. Up until you were about fourteen or fifteen when things changed in the Empire. Celes said they let you come here on your thirteenth birthday, so I chatted up the Impresario and managed to find the program. The night you came to see it was the night the young lady performing Aurora premiered as a prima ballerina. She's much older now, but she survived the Fall and she's still performing."

Terra looked back at the names. "That's unbelievable."

"And it was this same ballet, with her in this same role. So even though you don't remember it, I wanted to give you something back. A new memory, to replace the lost one."

"I..." Terra closed the programs. Her eyes prickled, just enough to tickle but not to cry as she thought for a moment of all that was lost. But this... And it was true. She knew from her reaction, the sudden love and amazement for what she was seeing on stage, that it was true. She'd been here before. She'd done this before.

She turned to Locke. "Thank you."

He smiled, and reached out to take her hand. "You're welcome," he said.

The lights began to dim, but as they did, he drew her hand in and kissed her knuckles. He didn't say anything, but there was a soft light in his eyes that drew an equally soft smile from Terra.

He held her hand the rest of the night.

* * *

**Notes**

The combination of Terra and ballet is entirely Lirillith's fault. She came up with that long ago, and it's stuck with me since, and finally made its way into fic. I really need to start doing one of these a week, or I'm going to be a grandmother by the time I finish this fic set. Hope you enjoyed!

SJ

PS, ffnet's formatting is being particularly screwy today. Let me know if anything goes wrong.


	13. Romance

**Obvious**

The dinner plates slipped through Locke's fingers, splashing the wash water onto his rolled up sleeves. He bit back a curse, and fished through the soapy water for the dishes. The past few weeks had made him feel nothing but inadequate. Sure, he was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, but trying to take on the entire load that Terra managed so effortlessly seemed almost impossible. The thought made him drop another plate and he bit back another curse.

"Locke?"

He looked up to find Lydia, in only her nightgown and a pair of thick woolen socks peeking around the doorway. She tiptoed in, and lifted her hand, clenched around a small hairbrush. "Can you help me with my hair? Mama usually does it, and I've been trying to do it myself, but it's getting too hard and Katarin's busy and..." She trailed off, but Locke could tell from her quavering voice that she was fighting back tears.

"It's ok, Lydia. I'll help." He tilted his head toward the table, and she scampered forward to sit on one of the stools. Locke dried his hands and settled down behind her, taking the brush in hand.

Lydia had the longest hair of all the girls, and it was a tangled mess. He started from the bottom, apologizing each time the brush tugged on a snarl of hair. After the third or fourth apology, Lydia started giggling, which in turn made Locke relax. He quickly figured out how to clasp the hair in one hand, holding it so he wasn't jerking on her skull while he worked the tangles out.

He was about halfway up her back when Lydia spoke. "Locke, do you think Mama's ever going to come home?"

Locke throat closed up for a second, and he had to cough a little before he could answer, forcing his voice to be light and cheerful for her sake. "Of course, squirt. You mom's one of the toughest people I know. She'll be home before you know it."

"Really?"

"Yes, really." Locke stopped brushing for a second to squeeze Lydia's shoulder. "You and all your brothers and sisters have been very brave. I know it's hard to wait, but that's just what we're going to have to do. She'll come home as soon as she can; we just have to be patient."

Lydia turned around, and while she wasn't crying, Locke could see the fear in her eyes. "You really think she's going to come home?"

Locke opened his arms, and Lydia scrambled into him. He held her tightly. She still didn't cry, but Locke could feel her shoulders quaking from the strain. "She'll come home, Lydia. She will."

Katarin found them in the same position a few minutes later. She raised her eyebrows at Locke, who shrugged in return. Smiling, she passed them to attend to the rest of the dishes. Locke eased Lydia out of his arms and back onto the stool, and finished up her hair. The top half was much easier to get through, and after he finished, she gave him another tight hug and ran back to her room.

Locke sat back in his chair, idly rocking the front legs on and off the ground. The days and days without news were wearing down everyone. He'd rushed to Mobliz as soon as he'd received Duane's telegram, but there was so little he could do except try to help with the kids. There were no clues, no signs of foul play. Even the constable was stumped. Setzer had his entire business fleet searching, and all of their friends had been notified, but there was nothing. It was like she'd disappeared into thin air, like... Like a dying esper. The thought brought Locke's chair back down to earth with a thump. Some thoughts were better left untouched. It had been over a month.

The sound of water draining caught his attention, and he found that Katarin had finished the dishes. She scrubbed at her face as she turned around, and Locke sighed at the dark circles clinging to the skin beneath her eyes. They were all worn down, trying to keep the kids optimistic, and sheltered from the rumors flying around town. They had to believe she would come back. He had to believe she would come back.

"Get some sleep, Katarin," he heard his voice speaking before he registered the thought. "You need it."

She stopped rubbing her face and smiled wryly in his direction. "Have you looked in a mirror lately, Locke? Speak for yourself."

Sure enough, before bed when Locke eyed himself in Terra's mirror, he had to sigh. He looked like he felt. Completely wrecked.

Not that one nights sleep fixed the problem. The days dragged on. Letters poured in from friends and colleagues, asking how they could help; neighbors stopped by daily asking for news. There was none. Setzer stopped by once a week to update them on the search, but there was nothing. Another month passed, and then another. People stopped inquiring, and Setzer hesitantly asked if they'd considered holding a memorial service in her honor. Locke answered that query with a stiff refusal and pretended he didn't see the pity in Setzer's eyes.

It was almost November, when Locke abruptly awoke to a screaming Katarin jumping onto the bed. It took a moment to wake up enough to sort her words in his mind, but when he did, he shot out of bed and scrambled to throw his possessions together. He calmed enough to read the message over a hurried breakfast eaten standing up. Duane had the chocobo saddled when he ran outside, still licking jam from his fingers. "Will you be okay starting out alone?" He asked, helping Locke buckle his pack to the bird.

"Yeah. Setzer's said he'd fly low and land when he sees me. I don't want any delays."

Duane clapped him on the shoulder. "Bring her home."

He rode hard, and sighted Setzer mid-morning. He stabled his exhausted bird with some understanding settlers, who were relieved to hear the good news, and fidgeted impatiently as Setzer spiraled down to land. The pilot didn't even bother with the ramps. Instead, he threw a rope ladder over to Locke, who scrambled up. He was grinning.

Setzer laughed at the sight of his face. "I stand corrected, Locke Cole. You are one lucky, lucky bastard."

Setzer was on the Falcon, thankfully, still the fastest ship in the skies. It wasn't fast enough for Locke, but it cut the journey to Narshe down to three days. He spent a lot of time out of the deck, looking at the land passing by beneath the ship, silently urging it to go faster. This annoyed Setzer enough to order him below and challenge him to a game of poker.

As they sat around playing on the second day, Setzer chuckled. "You are such a fool, Locke Cole."

Locke first assumed he'd let his horrible hand show on his face, but then realized Setzer was just making conversation. "About what this time?" he asked while rearranging his cards.

The gambler shook his head. "Have you ever told her how you felt?"

Locke froze. Setzer sat back in his chair. "You dropped everything the moment she disappeared. You were frantic for weeks, and then slumped into depression when we all started to wonder if she was dead. And now, you won't stop smiling, which is making it ridiculously hard to call your bluffs. Everyone can see it."

"We were all worried. It wasn't just me." Setzer raised his eyebrows and Locke sighed. "I knew I had feelings for her, but there were too many reasons not to pursue them, you know? She's got kids, I'm really not one to settle down, that kind of thing. But then something like this happens, and it really throws things into perspective. I'm just happy she's alive. I don't know what I would have done if she were really gone."

Setzer nodded. "Might I suggest that you consider revealing your feelings this time?"

"Relationship advice? From you?"

"I think you have no room to cast stones, Cole."

Locke scratched his head and chuckled. "Yeah, I know. How is Celes, anyway?"

"Worried and frustrated. She wanted to be out with me looking, but Figaro's Parliament is in session, so she couldn't leave. She and Edgar should have received my messages by now, which I'm sure will lessen some of the tension."

"Thanks for your help, Setzer. Really. We owe you."

Setzer shrugged. "No thanks are necessary. However, judging by that fact that you will not leave your cards alone, you have an awful hand. Call."

The third day was torture. Once he sighted the continent ahead, Locke wouldn't leave the deck, knowing they were so close. Winter was already taking hold in the north, but Locke bundled in his coat and endured the chill. They reached Narshe in the early afternoon. Setzer landed, and threw the rope ladder over again. "We'll catch up," he said, and Locke thanked him and scrambled down.

Mog was waiting for him outside the city gates. "About time, boss," he said, before leading Locke through the winding streets. "She's doing lots better. Don't know how long she was lying in the snow up on that cliff before we found her. She was sick, but the old women have been taking care of her, and they say she's better. She's got crazy stories to tell."

"Do you know what happened? How did she end up here?"

"It's a long story, boss. She can tell you herself."

The house was up a series of steps and platforms, set on one of the many cliffs in town. Mog opened the door and led him inside, where he was hit by a wall of warm air. Three women were knitting next to the fire. They greeted Locke, and he was sent through a door and into the room where Terra lay sleeping.

Locke stopped right inside the doorway and drank the sight of her in. Is some ways, it was like stepping back through time to the beginning of their adventures, when he found her unconscious and shivering on the mine's cold floor. Over their months together, he'd watched over her while she slept, and woken her up so many times. Then things had gotten horribly complicated and confusing and everything had changed, but here, watching her sleep in Narshe again, it seemed so clear. Watching her sleep, he knew what he needed to do.

He moved into the room, and sat on the edge of the bed. He reached forward and cupped her cheek in his hand, his thumb sliding across her cheek. The action roused her slightly and she shifted, but before she could move any more and before Locke could convince himself not to act, he leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.

This woke her up quickly and Locke pulled back to see confused violet eyes. "Locke?" Her voice was a little hoarse and scratchy.

Rather than answer, Locke leaned down and kissed her again, longer this time. When he pulled away, he didn't go far, instead looking down into her wide eyes. "I know I should wait and do this properly, you know, woo you with a romantic dinner or something, but I can't wait anymore. I was terrified that you were gone forever, and experiencing that made me realize that I can't live without you. I've felt this way for a long time, and always talked myself out of saying it, but I'm not going to be stupid and wait anymore. I love you. I really do." He finished the explanation with another kiss, and then sat back on the bed to wait for her reaction.

Much to his surprise, she chuckled. She shook her head when he looked at her. "I'm going to have to find a way to contact Cecil. And Cloud."

"Who?"

"Some of my friends from... Well, I don't really know where we were. It's complicated. But they both tried to help me and assure me that things could be good for me. And now I'm back, and this happens and I guess love is a kind of blooming flower?" She saw the look of confusion on his face and burst out laughing. "It is a really, really long story."

But instead of elaborating, she pulled Locke into another kiss, and he took this to signify that everything was going to be all right. When they broke apart, both were smiling.

* * *

This idea has been stuck in my head for awhile now, and is now on paper. This is the first Saturday I've had to myself in awhile, so yay for time for writing! Happy Saturday!

SJ


	14. Friendship

Warnings: Follow-up to Obvious. Very minor spoilers for Thearhythm.

**Reconciliation**

They landed with a thud on the cold rocky ground. Air abandoned Terra's lungs for a moment, but once she caught her breath, she started laughing. There were a few coughs interspersed as her lungs continued to adjust to the thin air, but mostly, she was laughing. Locke was doing the same.

"Oh, would you two stop that?" Celes' voice came from over to the left. "This is ridiculous."

Still giggling, Terra pushed herself up and worked on wiping the dirt from her face. Locke was close to her and they exchanged a wry grin. "I'm sorry, Celes," she said to the woman, already standing with arms crossed a few feet away. "But it's so funny! Last time I got pulled into one of Cosmos and Chaos' wars, there was serious fighting and magic and danger. And now, apparently the two of them are battling with music." She started giggling again at the thought.

Celes did not look impressed. "You have to admit, it is a little funny," Locke said to her, standing up and offering a hand to Terra.

"You can say that. You did not have to relive that opera dozens and dozens of times."

"But it was so beautiful," Terra protested.

"It was humiliating."

Locke sighed and flung his arm around Terra. "It's okay, Celes. I promise we won't tell anyone that aspect of the story. If it helps, you can brag about how much better your sense of rhythm is than mine instead." He couldn't quite hold in a laugh at that statement, which set Terra off again. Celes threw up her hands and turned away from them.

"Honestly," she said over her shoulder. "The two of you are an impossible pair."

"Oh, Celes," Terra said, once they'd calmed down again. "Didn't you have any fun?"

She didn't answer.

It didn't take long for Setzer and Mog to make their way up to the cliff to rescue them. After the three of them vanished, Setzer and their other friends figured that the routine would play out similarly to Terra's last disappearance. With their climbing gear, the party was able to make their way down into the city proper with little difficulty.

They spent the night at the inn, and Terra and Locke regaled everyone with tales of their musical adventure. Celes remained mostly aloof, but even she cracked a smile when they spoke of some of their comrades and their unique antics. She even laughed when Terra described some of the arguments between Zidane and Garnet.

The transportation left them worn out and drained, though, so Celes left for her and Setzer's room early in the evening. A sleepy Locke yawned and wandered out as well, and Terra stood to follow. She paused before passing through the door and turned back to Setzer, who was dealing a game of Solitaire. He noticed her hesitation and looked up.

Steeling her courage, she spoke boldly. "Setzer, you should bring her to visit Mobliz sometime. I know things between all of us can be awkward, but it doesn't have to be that way. While we were in the shrines, things were like they used to be. All of us were friends, and it was fun. I think it would be good for her."

Setzer pursed his lips for a moment, and then nodded. "Interesting. She does miss you, at least. I'll speak with her, but no promises."

Terra beamed. "That's all I'm asking for. Thanks!"

The flight home was entertaining. Locke kept trying to convince Setzer to put him in contact with some Jidoorian composers. "You don't even get it," he exclaimed. "Some of this music was just so far beyond our times. It would blow them away!"

"And how do you intend to impart that music to them?" Setzer asked. "Sing the whole thing? I'm sure they would take that very seriously."

This argument went on for almost a day, until an exasperated Celes told them both to shut up, sat down at the small piano bolted to the floor in the corner of the room, and played an arrangement of Aerith's song.

At everyone's dumbfounded expressions, she shrugged. "Music was one of Gestahl's only hobbies. We were all encouraged to pursue it."

"Could you play one of the songs from Lightning's world?" Locke asked eagerly, not missing a beat. "Those were the ones that would really shake our culture up a bit."

Celes sighed, much put upon, but then started plinking out one of the battle songs. Terra caught a hint of a smile on her face as she did so, which made the green haired woman smile as well.

Terra and Locke's departure was a cheerful one. The kids were all screaming and laughing and demanding stories, and Duane and Katarin weren't behaving much better. But much to her and Locke's surprise, instead of taking off as soon as possible, Celes and Setzer left the airship and let the kids drag them along to the house. They spent the evening helping make dinner, and Celes joined in on the story telling, holding one of the younger kids in her lap.

They let the kids stay up late to listen, but when heads started to visibly droop, Terra and Locke hauled them all off to bed. In lieu of a bedtime story, Terra sang them a soft lullaby, the strange theme that all of their friends from all different worlds knew instinctively. The kids fell asleep quickly, and Locke doused the lamps. He stopped her in the hallway.

"Did you say something to her?"

Terra smiled up at him. "No, but I said something to Setzer. I hope you don't mind, but sticking together over there just made me remember how the three of us used to be our own little pack. And it made me miss it."

Locke reached out and pulled her into a hug. "No complaints here, Terra," he said, dropping a kiss to the top of her head. "It's nice. Just like old times."

"Yeah," she said, snuggling a little closer to him. "Just like old times."

* * *

**Notes**

As this is taking theatrhythm into account, I guess this one could be considered half-canon, half-crack? Anyway, enjoy, and don't forget, reviews make me smile!

SJ


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